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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023216">mysteries and ducks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stainedglassbirds/pseuds/stainedglassbirds'>stainedglassbirds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Crossover, Dewey Duck Has ADHD, Gen, Honorary Duck Family Member Webby Vanderquack, Minor Lena (Disney: Ducktales)/Webby Vanderquack, Nonbinary Dewey Duck, Platonic Cuddling, Sibling Banter, Statue Bill Cipher, Swearing, Trans Female Huey Duck, magic portal fuckery, theyre all trans just tagging them cause pronoun changes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:34:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,316</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023216</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stainedglassbirds/pseuds/stainedglassbirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An adventure leads Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby to being sucked into a different dimension, and the cherry on top is that they're a different species now, too. While trying to find out a way to leave, they get to know the little family residing in the Mystery Shack.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dewey Duck &amp; Huey Duck &amp; Louie Duck &amp; Webby Vanderquack, Dipper Pines &amp; Mabel Pines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>mysteries and ducks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Louie’s first thought is that he simply dreamed up the entire adventure, and he’s just now waking up, safe and home in his bed.<br/><br/>His second thought is that he’s never been that lucky before.<br/><br/>He groans, blinking the dark fuzz out of his vision as his brain slowly reboots, piece by piece until he’s abruptly conscious of his surroundings like a brick to the face. “Mmmrrugh,” he mumbles pathetically. He doesn’t wanna get up. His mouth is dry, and he feels like he was just run over by a truck or whatever monster they just fought was.<br/><br/><em> Did </em> they fight anything? His memory feels like it’s been put into a box, shook around, and then pieces of it were torn out at random.<br/><br/>There was blinding light,<br/><br/><em> his grip is slipping, the force pulling them in is too strong and he can’t let go he can’t let go he can’t— </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> <em> and… </em> something… something important… he blinks. Wait.<br/><br/>“Dewey—” He frantically scrambles up and everything feels <em> wrong, </em> the world spinning and not quite righting itself. “Dewey! Huey? Webby?!” he calls, squinting because wherever he’s at he can barely see, something like stone under him. A cave?<br/><br/>He takes a moment to let his eyes adjust, staring at the floor where his hands are placed, and… and… what?<br/><br/>His hands— they’re not the soft white he’s used to, instead being a darker brown, and worst of all, they’re <em> smooth. </em> It’s like all his feathers were plucked by some weird <em> maniac. </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> Then, he notices the second thing wrong. He can’t see the outline of his beak in front of his face anymore, it being replaced with the fuzzy edge of… something else. Slowly, he raises his hand to touch it. It’s almost like… a nose. But not. He’s never seen a nose like this before. The third awful thing that makes no sense at all is his <em> mouth. </em> There’s no beak, or muzzle, or anything, it’s just flat against his face. At least his teeth and tongue seem to be the same, but what the <em> fuck? </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> He grits his teeth, instinctively moving his hands to hold the sides of his head only to be met with <em> another </em> unpleasant thing. His hair doesn’t feel too weird, though it’s definitely longer. He still has ears, but instead of being small little holes you don’t really notice they’re <em> protruding </em> from his skin.<br/><br/>Great. <em> Great. </em><br/><br/>He tries to control his breathing, pressing himself back against a rocky wall and curling in on himself. What the hell is going <em> on, </em> who turned him into… whatever <em> this </em> is?! He feels gross and clammy and he hates this body, he hates what’s happening, he really wishes it’s just some weird fever-induced nightmare but everything is too <em> sharp </em> for him to be able to believe that. It’s all real in an uncomfortable way, like how wrong the cool air feels on his skin.<br/><br/>To gain some comfort he flips up his hood, softly rocking back and forth. Okay. Okay. He’s in… like, a cave, can’t see much of anything but it’s not pitch dark which means there has to be light from somewhere.<br/><br/>He groans, pressing his hands against his face, then immediately retracting them. He doesn’t like how… <em> smooth </em> he feels. His legs feel more squishy, too, and looking at his feet (he’s barefoot because ducks don’t really <em> need </em> to wear shoes) they’re the same brown color instead of orange. He wonders if this is how other animals than birds feel, having their legs be the same as the rest of their body.<br/><br/>He scrunches his hands into his black pants. Clothes are all the same, at least. A thought strikes him, and he fumbles for his phone, which thankfully didn’t change either. Come on… and… no battery.<br/><br/>Curse his inability to ever charge his phone.<br/><br/>“Guys…?” he calls out softly in hopes that his siblings are nearby. If only he could see anything past himself in this <em> stupid cave. </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> “‘ive more minutes…”<br/><br/>Louie jolts. “Dewey? Dewey!” He near-lunges forward, letting out an <em> oof </em> as he falls onto the floor. He doesn’t let himself dwell on the dull ache it brought, continuing to crawl forward until he bumps into someone.<br/><br/>They’re wearing a blue shirt— <em> Dewey, it has to be Dewey. </em> Roughly, Louie shakes them. “Dewey!” he hisses. “Get up!”<br/><br/>Dewey groans in response, raising a hand to his... ear. Louie is slightly grateful he’s not the only one dealing with being suddenly put into a weird body. Having an outside look on it, whatever creature they both are reminds him of something. “I’ll tell Uncle Donald you—”<br/><br/>Dewey shoots up. “No! Anything but that, I plead for mercy!” they shout, clenching their eyes and holding up their arms in front of them in faux defense.<br/><br/>“I didn’t even finish.”<br/><br/>“<em>Anything </em> you coulda said would have been a death sentence,” Dewey defends. He opens their mouth to say something else, probably more dramatics, when they blink, staring at Louie. And then they scream.<br/><br/>“Dewey—”<br/><br/>“Who are you and what did you do with my brother?!” they yell, scrambling up against the wall, pointing at Louie. “I don’t wanna be in a TV show again!” they wail.<br/><br/>“Dewey! Look at your hands, you dumbass!”<br/><br/>Dewey freezes. “...Is this a trick?”<br/><br/>Louie rolls his eyes. “<em>Ugh,</em>” and promptly grabs Dewey’s hands, shoving them in front of his face so they can see them.<br/><br/>“What are you—” a pause. Louie internally counts to three. Right on time, they scream again. “What happened to my <em> feathers?! </em> Oh god, am <em> I </em> a flesh-faced monster?!” Panic-stricken, they pat their face, the distraught in their expression growing. “This is worse than any of my nightmares,” he mumbles, voice thick.<br/><br/>Louie grimaces, gently holding Dewey’s shoulders. “I dunno what happened. Kinda just woke up here like… this. But we’ll figure it out, and everything will be back to normal, and we can complain enough to everyone about it to get pampered.”<br/><br/>Dewey sniffs. “Yeah. Well, at least whatever changed us didn’t do anything to our clothes,” they comment, fiddling absently with the edge of their shorts. Louie hates the fact he just thought that a minute ago.<br/><br/>“Guys? Ack— why is it so <em> dark </em> in here, I can’t <em> see… </em> ”<br/><br/>Louie swivels his head towards the sound of Huey. “Huey! We’re over here— actually, we can just come over to you, my eyes are more adjusted.”<br/><br/>“Huh? Louie? Are Dewey and Webby with you…?” Huey asks. Louie notes the slight shakiness to it.<br/><br/>“Dewey’s with me. Haven’t seen Webby yet. Um… don’t freak out, by the way,” Louie slowly says, grabbing Dewey’s hand and moving to where Huey’s voice is coming from.<br/><br/>“Why would I be freaking out? I’m not freaking out,” she says in a freaked-out manner. Louie wasn’t talking about her fear of the dark, but winces once he remembers it. Yeah, this isn’t going to be fun for anyone.<br/><br/>“There’s… a situation,” Louie decides on.<br/><br/>“We’re all weird fleshy monsters now!” Dewey adds with the delicateness of dropping a piano on someone. “Like from that one time, with the genie, except now <em> we’re </em> those things…”<br/><br/><em> That’s </em> where Louie remembers them from, right.<br/><br/>“Wait, what?” Suddenly she yelps, and there’s a loud <em> thump. </em> “<em>What happened to me?!</em>” she shrieks.<br/><br/>“Ow— what’s with all the yelling?” Webby’s muffled voice sounds out into the cave. Four out of four of them have been found, Louie thinks dryly.<br/><br/>Huey and Webby’s forms come into view— Huey halfway sprawled over Webby— and Louie halts, reaching out a hand to help Huey up while Dewey goes to Webby. “I said to not freak out,” he says.<br/><br/>Huey squints up at him, mouth twisted downwards. Hesitantly, she takes his hand, letting him pull her up. “How am I <em> not </em> supposed to panic right now?! We don’t know <em> anything </em> about our situation, not to mention the fact we’re these weird, gross, fleshy things!”<br/><br/>“Huh?” Webby blinks at the three of them, eyes widening as she takes in their appearances. “Oh my gosh! This is so weird! And so cool!” Enthusiastically she begins to examine herself, pulling at her hair and fiddling with her fingers in awe. Her skin is a lighter brown than theirs, and so is her hair. It also doesn’t have the fade to cream theirs does.<br/><br/>“At least someone’s having fun,” Dewey mutters.<br/><br/>“<em>Okay. </em> So we’re in like, a cave, and we’re… these things, and we don’t know what’s going on,” Louie lists out. “We should find where the exit is.”<br/><br/>Huey reaches out, grabbing Louie’s hand. Usually the roles are reversed, but he understands Huey doesn’t want to let anyone out of sight right now. “Good idea. We should stick together—”<br/><br/>“I’m on it!” Dewey exclaims, running into the darkness.<br/><br/>“Dewey!”<br/><br/>Dewey yelps as they suddenly fall, and <em> glaringly bright </em> sunlight abruptly shines into the cave. Louie hisses, raising an arm to shield his eyes. He blinks the white spots out of his vision, the light slowly softening into something he can actually <em> look </em> at. Dewey’s sprawled on the ground, having made an opening in a wall of… vines, probably, that were in front of the entrance, apparently so thick they blocked out most of the light.<br/><br/>“...I found the exit,” Dewey observes.<br/><br/>“Onward!” Webby declares, running into the sunlight. She stops for a moment to help Dewey up, then wastes no time as she brushes through the vines.<br/><br/>“Onward…” Louie lazily pumps a fist, moving forward.<br/><br/>It turns out they’re in the middle of a pine forest, thickets of trees covering the ground. The sun’s placement indicates it’s about midday, around the time they started their adventure back home. The only thing that really means is they weren’t dropped somewhere halfway across the world. Small victories.<br/><br/>“Does everything feel weirdly… <em>taller</em> to you guys?” Dewey asks, craning their neck up.<br/><br/>Huh. Now that Dewey’s mentioned it, he realizes the slight off-ness to everything, how it seems… well, <em> taller. </em> By like, an inch or so, but it’s a weird, disorientating feeling.<br/><br/>“Maybe we shrunk?” Webby suggests. “Oh! Or maybe we’re in a different dimension!”<br/><br/>“How do you get from <em> shrunk </em> to <em> different dimension? </em> ” Huey asks incredulously.<br/><br/>“Think about it,” Webby starts. “We’re a completely different species that we’ve only seen once before, and that was because of genie magic. We woke up at an unknown location after that light went off. And everything feels like it’s been put into photoshop and stretched out a little then placed to the left!” She throws out her arms.<br/><br/>Huey frowns, slowly reaching up to her hat and pulling out her guidebook.<br/><br/>“We’re not doing your guidebook nonsense!” Webby snaps.<br/><br/>Huey gapes in offense, clutching her book closely. “My guidebook is the <em> most </em> reliable thing there is. Look, just...” She opens it, muttering to herself as she flips to a specific section. “Alternate universes… multiverse theory… oh!”<br/><br/>Louie instinctively crowds around her along with Dewey and Webby to see what she found. A few scribbled out drawings depict creatures that look similar to what the four of them have turned into.<br/><br/>“Humans,” Huey clarifies. “I dug around to see if there was anything on them after what happened with the genie. There was basically nothing, except for a few things from Scrooge. I think a human has been in our world at some point before…? It seems like Scrooge met one decades ago.”<br/><br/>“Ooo,” Dewey says. “But then why are <em> we </em> humans?”<br/><br/>“Because of whatever happened back there and the portal that transported us here,” Webby pipes in. “Some magical entries to alternate dimensions have different qualities. Like, some could be unstable so you’re ripped apart as soon as you enter, or are flicked back and forth between multiple dimensions,” she explains, completely nonchalant. Louie’s stomach curls at the thought that could have happened to them.<br/><br/>“Some would have kept us as ducks, but this one seemed to change our form to accommodate for the dominant species this world has. Or maybe it just changed us to humans specifically since we best match the size and proportions of them,” she finishes her explanation, gesturing with her hands the whole way through.<br/><br/>“So the portal-thingy did it,” Dewey nods. “Makes sense.”<br/><br/>“None of this really makes sense,” Huey says.<br/><br/>Louie places a hand on Huey’s shoulder. “Dear sister, when have our lives <em> ever </em> made sense?”<br/><br/>She sighs, slamming her guidebook shut and stuffing it back under her hat. Sometimes Louie wonders how she manages to fit it there. Maybe there’s its own portal there and she puts it into some sort of pocket dimension.<br/><br/>“It’d be helpful if I could remember exactly what happened…” Webby mumbles, tapping her foot. “My memory’s kinda spotty on it.”<br/><br/>“Oh! Mine too!” Dewey exclaims.<br/><br/>“Probably a side-effect from the portal,” Huey hums. “I’m sure it’s fine, though, we’ll remember more details later.”<br/><br/>Louie makes a face. “It wouldn’t affect any other memories, right? Like, we’re not just gonna forget a bunch of things about our lives because of this…?”<br/><br/>“ADHD already does that job for me,” Dewey says absently. Louie chokes on his spit.<br/><br/>Huey’s starting to look a little worried now too. “...Um. Y'know what, lets just say that is absolutely not going to happen at all, because it’s not, and everything’s fine!” her voice pitches, and she puts on a strained smile.<br/><br/>“It <em> could </em> be a possibility, though—” Webby’s cut off by Louie placing a hand over her mouth. She licks it.<br/><br/>“Eugh! Ew, Webby, gross!” He wipes his hand on his pants, scowling.<br/><br/>Webby has the <em> audacity </em> to grin, giggling lightly. “Alright, alright, we gotta find shelter so we don’t go crazy of starvation. Maybe stumble across some human civilization!”<br/><br/>“Do we <em> want </em> to see humans?” Louie asks sincerely, shoving his hands into the comfort of his hoodie pocket. “They were pretty aggressive before. They might try attacking us again or something.”<br/><br/>“Eh, we’re humans now, aren’t we?” Webby counters. “We’ll be fine! And if they <em> do </em> attack us, we can just take them on like last time!”<br/><br/>Huey gazes at the sun, shaking her head and looking out to the forest. “We should get moving. We only have a few hours of daylight left, and who knows how big this forest is. We can leave marks on the trees so we make sure we don’t loop around in circles. Junior Woodchuck rule number fifty-three: <em> Always </em> leave a trail,” she recites.<br/><br/>Nerd.<br/><br/>Webby picks up a sharp-looking rock, moving her hand through the dirt covered in pine needles before picking up another one. She hands the second to Huey. “In case one of us loses our rock! We can be the markers.”<br/><br/>Huey smiles. “Thanks, Webby.”<br/><br/>Dewey bounces on their feet, humming as their gaze darts around. “Let’s go… this way!” they point to a seemingly random direction, already heading off.<br/><br/>Huey groans in exasperation, quickly following Dewey, Webby and Louie trailing behind.<br/><br/>Louie finds quickly that he hates walking as a human way more than he did as a duck. Everything feels so much more <em> pointy, </em> and his feet are hurting in less than a minute, needles and rocks digging into his skin.<br/><br/>“This sucks,” Louie remarks. “Why are these bodies so <em> sensitive? </em> God, it’s just some pine needles yet it feels like I’m being stabbed with a bunch of tiny knives.”<br/><br/>“It is,” Huey winces, “pretty frustrating. Ow. I stepped on a rock.”<br/><br/>“<em>S</em><em>ee?</em> This was <em> nothing </em> before,” Louie stresses. “If I stepped on a small rock as a duck I wouldn’t even notice, but now everything is hell.”<br/><br/>“I think my foot is bleeding a little,” Dewey says from the front of the group, pausing to check. “Yep. Okay, this walk is a bit too bent on killing my feet. I miss being a duck… everything feels so much <em> colder </em> without my feathers. And my ears are all weird. And my legs feel like jello already. I think human bodies just suck.”<br/><br/>“It’s not <em> all </em> that bad,” Webby, ever the optimist, says. “Our hair is pretty cute, at least.”<br/><br/>“Our hair <em> is </em> cute,” Dewey agrees. “I like the color yours is.”<br/><br/>“Aw, thanks, Dewey! I like yours too! The fade is really pretty,” she smiles brightly. “...I wonder what Lena would look like as a human? Maybe she’d have brown hair, too, or black… she’d look <em> really </em> beautiful…” Webby trails off, and Louie can almost see the heart eyes.<br/><br/>Dewey halts.<br/><br/>Webby bumps into him, blinking as she steps back. “What is it?”<br/><br/>They don’t respond, but their eyebrows furrow in thought as they stare at… <em> something </em> to their right, before abruptly they swerve into that direction.<br/><br/>Louie looks to Huey and Webby, who just shrug, equally as confused. With a vague sense of anxiety, he follows Dewey. It’s not usually like them to get quiet like this. They enter into a small clearing, where Dewey’s stopped, standing and looking at…<br/><br/>Oh.<br/><br/>A stone statue sits, slanted and rooted into the grass. Moss and cracks cover its surface, some grass even growing. He has no idea what the statue is supposed to <em> be. </em> It’s some sort of <em> thing </em> shaped into a triangle, wearing a top hat, and has a large, protruding eye in the middle of it. One hand stands outstretched, like waiting eternally for a handshake.<br/><br/>“...That’s creepy,” Louie decides after a pause. “Probably cursed. And we should probably leave.”<br/><br/>“Definitely cursed,” Webby mumbles, her voice soft with an odd tone to it. She edges closer to him and Huey, protectively taking their hands.<br/><br/>Warning bells go off in his head when he stares at the statue, an intrinsic sense of <em> wrongness </em> shooting deep into his bones. A wisp of a thought brushes the back of his mind, and it doesn’t really feel like his.<br/><br/>He doesn’t want to be here anymore.<br/><br/>Dewey’s hand jolts at their side, like they were thinking of reaching out, before deciding not to. They turn, holding their arms in a nervous gesture. “Yeah. Let’s go,” they say quietly, walking past Louie. He slumps in relief, more than happy to leave the clearing.<br/><br/>The fog he didn’t realize was there lifts from his mind the moment they leave, his thoughts feeling clearer. That was weird. Louie makes note to never go back there again. He speeds up his pace a little to get to where Dewey’s leading from the front, casually grabbing his hand, completely the chain.<br/><br/>“Hey,” Louie says. “You good?”<br/><br/>Dewey shoots him a grateful smile. It doesn’t reach their eyes, but it’s not fake, either. “Yeah.”<br/><br/>He nods, letting it drop. It’s enough confirmation for him. With how Dewey’s still fidgeting, he knows the statue left them shaken up, but it left him feeling weird too, so he gets it.<br/><br/>He thankfully doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it, because a building comes into view.<br/><br/>“Civilization!” Webby cheers, breaking from the hand-holding chain and dashing out of the forest to the cabin. Dewey echoes her in excitement, running along with her.<br/><br/>“Guys!” Huey calls, frustration edging her tone as she drags Louie along with her to follow their <em>stupid</em>siblings.<br/><br/>“Oh, sure, let's just run to the mysterious cabin in the woods,” Louie mutters, hurrying to keep up, and every step is <em> pain,</em> god they need to get shoes. “Because that <em> totally </em> won’t lead us to being murdered.”<br/><br/>They come to a stop in front of the cabin. The first thing he notices is the giant logo propped onto the roof, reading <em> Mystery Shack. </em> The S seems to have fallen off at some point, slid halfway down the roof, so the sign reads more as <em> Mystery Hack. </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> “How obvious can you get?” Louie squints. There’s two entrances he can see, the main one— where a few people are lining inside— and one for a gift shop. There’s a soda machine with a logo saying <em> Pit Cola. </em> He’s never heard of it before. It didn’t occur to him the fact this dimension would have different brands.<br/><br/>His dry mouth really, really wants to try it. He checks his pockets, pleasantly surprised to see his coins are still there. It’s never bad to keep a few on you.<br/><br/>“Drinks first,” Louie points to the soda machine, sauntering over to it and promptly shoving in enough coins to get one for all of them.<br/><br/>“Pit Cola?” Dewey asks in wonder.<br/><br/>“I wonder if it’ll taste similar to Pep,” Huey ponders, taking the can of Pit Louie hands her.<br/><br/>Webby immediately cracks hers open, taking a huge sip. “Hmmm… kind of! It’s a bit sweeter and less Pep-y. Actually, I wonder if our taste buds are different in these bodies…”<br/><br/>Dewey downs his drink— then starts sputtering, making a choked sound as they spit out something, coughing heavily and holding a hand to their throat. “<em>Eugh— </em> There’s an <em> actual </em> pit in these, oh god that was not a fun surprise.”<br/><br/>Huey pats their back, part sympathy and part I’m-The-Eldest-And-Concerned.<br/><br/>“Weird how similar a lot of things about this dimension is to ours,” Webby leans back against the soda machine, observing their surroundings. “Most dimensions tend to be completely different, y’know? Unimaginable horrors, filled with eldritch monsters… but this one even uses the same currency we do.”<br/><br/>“I guess the big difference is all the humans?” Dewey muses.<br/><br/>Webby peeks around the corner, gazing to where the main entrance is. “So far it seems the only intelligent life-form is humans. They all look different, though, some have <em> really </em> pale skin. The range of colors might be limited from dark brown to cream, though. I haven’t seen anyone who’s, like, purple.” She twirls a strand of hair thoughtfully. “That would kinda suck, wouldn’t it?”<br/><br/>“I don’t think not being able to be purple is too big of a loss,” Huey remarks.<br/><br/>“That’s <em> boring </em> though,” Dewey counters.<br/><br/>“It’s not like we were purple when we were ducks, Dewey.”<br/><br/>Louie looks at his hands. “Wonder why our skin doesn’t match the color we were before if humans can be cream.”<br/><br/>In a weird way, though, it almost feels… right? Not <em> right, </em> really, because everything about this body is completely wrong, but it doesn’t feel like the universe just chucked them into random bodies and called it a day. It feels like if they were born as humans this is just… how they would look.<br/><br/><em> Humansona,</em> an awful part of his brain says that sounds suspiciously like Dewey. He groans.<br/><br/>Webby chucks her can into the trash. “Hmmm… should we go to the gift shop, or see what everyone’s doing over there?”<br/><br/>“Gift shop is right there,” Louie gestures to the entrance.<br/><br/>“You go to the gift shop last, though, <em> and </em> we don’t have any money left,” Huey retorts. “I vote for the latter option.”<br/><br/>Louie sighs, knowing this is a fruitless fight now since Huey is almost always right. “Alright. But we need a <em> plan. </em> Gotta get an alibi, place to stay, and weedle some money out of someone so we can get food.”<br/><br/>“We’re <em> homeless </em> children, tirelessly trying to find shelter,” Dewey starts dramatically, “with no food left at all, not even shoes for our <em> poor </em> feet.”<br/><br/>Louie nods, placing a hand to his chin. “Plausible. Going the homeless route is risky, though. It’s best we keep some truth to the alibi, it’ll make us seem more trustworthy. Maybe… we got separated from our family, and we’re new to town so we’re lost, and need a place to stay. Also, we’re really hungry, please give us food.”<br/><br/>“And we lost our shoes in a <em> bear fight.</em>”<br/><br/>“Sure.”<br/><br/>They mill over to the group of people, just managing to squeeze past and get inside the Mystery Shack. Louie already isn’t a fan of crowds, but he finds he especially isn’t in a dimension he’s unfamiliar with and the main population being these weird creatures.<br/><br/>There’s various ‘attractions’ on display, though they’re all obviously fake. Really, <em> really </em> obviously fake, why is <em> anyone </em> interested in this? He stares at the people <em> oohing </em> and <em> ahhing </em> at the attractions. Maybe humans are just really dumb.<br/><br/>Webby’s examining a display that calls itself a jackalope but is clearly just a taxidermy rabbit with fake antlers glued onto it. He can literally see the dried glue at the base.<br/><br/>“Well this is disappointing,” Dewey says, looking at a beaver with a unicorn horn. “Come on! At least be <em> creative </em> if you’re gonna be fake,” they pout, crossing their arms.<br/><br/>Huey seems similarly peeved, scrunching her eyes as she stares at the displays. “Nearly none of these things are even actual mythical creatures, they’re all just some sort of animal with a fake prop stuck to them. Like—like, they could have done a <em> dragon, </em> or displayed magical artifacts, or a <em> basilisk. </em> ”<br/><br/>“Maybe those don’t exist here, and what we’re seeing <em> are </em> their mythical creatures,” Webby suggests. “Dragons are <em> so </em> cool, though…”<br/><br/>“Eh, I think we’re better off if they don’t have dragons,” Louie says dryly.<br/><br/>Walking through the museum— in the loosest sense of the term— proves to not be very interesting, though does bring up a few questions about human culture and their level of intelligence. He reminds himself it’s best they do this so they can catch someone's attention and start up the plan of <em> not </em> sleeping outside.<br/><br/>But no one is paying them any mind. They all seem pretty preoccupied with the attractions. It’s… kind of weird. Like, if he was them, and there were a bunch of kids walking around barefoot and dirty, he’d probably question it.<br/><br/>They’re near the giftshop when they see the presumable owner of the attraction. He’s a bigger man, with tan skin and fuzz on his chin, a bright smile on his face. The black suit contrasts with him, along with a red bowtie and fez. In his hand is a cane with a magic 8-ball affixed to it.<br/><br/>Typical.<br/><br/>The man goes on about some sort of <em> horrific </em> monster, proudly showing off what looks to be a mix of a pig, mouse, and bear. Razor sharp teeth and claws are affixed to it, eyeballs empty and soulless. Now that’s a little more creative. Hide the patching and spin a good enough tale, he could create a good con with that.<br/><br/>Huey looks like she’s about to go on a rant about the obvious lies this place is selling, so he quickly grabs her sleeve and tugs her into the gift shop before she starts a scene.<br/><br/>Huey shoots him a glare, but softens into resignation. She sighs, whispering under her breath. “This place is so <em> stupid.</em> How does <em> anyone </em> believe any of this?”<br/><br/>Louie shrugs. “People are dumb.”<br/><br/>Two girls are at the register, one looking like an adult while the other seems to be a teenager. They’re idly talking, and he takes note of the jar of fake eyeballs on the desk, along with things likely just for display under it. The register has a paper saying no refunds.<br/><br/>A little sadly, he eyes the box of ice cream just next to the desk. Maybe he could take some without them noticing.<br/><br/>“Aw. I wish we had money,” Dewey says dejectedly as he holds a snowglobe.<br/><br/>Webby eyes another one just next to them, nodding in agreement. “For being a hack there is a lot of cool stuff you can buy. Most of the weapons are fake, but they sell real grappling hooks! And there’s these really neat skulls…”<br/><br/>Louie strolls over, swiftly grabbing the snowglobe Dewey’s holding and shoving it into his pocket. The cash registers don’t notice. Score. Huey and Webby glare at him. “Okay, now we just wait around looking sad until someone approaches.”<br/><br/>Barely a second after he says that, a girl approaches. She has long brown hair and a pink headband, wearing a similarly colored sweater with a shooting star on it and a purple skirt. There’s two shiny gems on her ears. Are some people just, like, born with gems on them? Is that a thing? Wait, piercings. He’s an idiot. In his defense, human ears are <em> really </em> different from duck ears.<br/><br/>He’s so caught up in the idea of being born with literal riches on your skin he almost doesn’t register her speaking.<br/><br/>“Hi! I’m Mabel!” she greets, holding out a hand for him to shake. He stares at it. She lets it drop. “Woah. Are you guys triplets? I have a twin brother myself,” she says proudly, “Look at how much we have in common already!”<br/><br/>Louie squints. “Uhuh.”<br/><br/>“Nice to meet you, Mabel,” Huey swiftly takes over, putting on a polite smile. “I’m Huey, that’s Dewey, Louie, and then our sister Webby.”<br/><br/>Webby waves. “Hi! I’m Webby. And Huey just told you that...” she cringes.<br/><br/>“Awww, you guys have cute matching names too!” Mabel croons. “Sooo, what are you doing in this little shack? More importantly, got any <em> interest </em> in anyone…?”<br/><br/>Louie registers what she’s doing. “I’m taken,” he lies easily. Well, kind of lies. He is taken by Boyd, but it’s not a <em> romantic </em> thing. Besides, even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t have any interest in girls.<br/><br/>A boy that looks similar to Mabel, only with shorter hair, suddenly comes up, pulling Mabel a few inches away from them. “Sorry about her,” he says quickly, smiling nervously. He’s wearing an orange shirt and blue vest, along with a ballcap with a blue pine tree on it. “She likes bothering people.”<br/><br/>“I’m not <em> bothering </em> them, Dipper! Look! They’re triplets, isn’t that cool?”<br/><br/>“<em>We’re </em> twins, it’s not that cool.”<br/><br/>Mabel crosses her arms, pouting. “Spoilsport.”<br/><br/>“She’s not bothering us,” Huey quickly corrects. “So, do you guys know what’s up with this place, or…?”<br/><br/>“Yeah! Why’s everything so <em> boring? </em> ” Dewey cuts in passionately. “None of the attractions even move…” he mumbles.<br/><br/>Dipper looks at them with an odd expression. “You guys aren’t from here, are you?”<br/><br/>“No. We’re from the coast,” Louie almost says they’re from Duckburg before realizing that place might not even exist here. “We were only passing through, but we got separated from our family…” he drops his tone, layering it in a coat of wistful sadness. It’s not that hard, considering he does feel bad about this whole situation. “We’ve been lost for <em> hours. </em> We don’t have anywhere to go… I’m worried we’ll have to sleep outside.”<br/><br/>Mabel’s face twists into sympathy. “Oh, no! That’s awful… is there anything we can do? I’m sure our grunkle could help!”<br/><br/>Dipper still looks suspicious. Well, one out of two is good, especially if their relationship is anything like his with his siblings, it’ll be easy for Mabel to get him on her side.<br/><br/>“Why aren’t you wearing shoes?” Dipper asks, as if that fact alone disproves everything Louie just said.<br/><br/>“Bear.”<br/><br/>“...Bear?”<br/><br/>“We were in the forest!” Dewey jumps in loudly, “It was all quiet, the only sound being the birds chirping… when suddenly, there was a <em> growl. </em> A <em> huge </em> bear came at us from its cave, all snarling and claws. We didn’t have any weapons, so we had to throw our shoes at it to slow 'em down,” they finish, sounding pleased with themself.<br/><br/>“He’s exaggerating,” Huey says flatly.<br/><br/>“It was fun!” Webby exclaims. She’s gotten a lot better at lying, Louie thinks proudly.<br/><br/>“<em>Woah! </em> You guys survived a <em> bear attack?! </em> That’s so cool!” Mabel gasps, holding up her hands. “Y’know, you guys could stay with us for the night while we look for your parents. I’m <em> sure </em> Grunkle Stan wouldn’t mind.”<br/><br/>“Mabel—” Dipper protests. She shushes him.<br/><br/>“So you guys live here?” Louie asks.<br/><br/>“Yeah! Our grunkle used to run the place, but now Soos does. This is our second summer here,” Mabel explains enthusiastically. “I’ll admit, the attractions <em> could </em> use more creativity, but that’s not my jurisdiction.”<br/><br/>“Ohhh, fire could be <em> cool, </em> ” Dewey says, more to themself than Mabel. “Flames make everything better.”<br/><br/>“Glitter too! Or knives,” Webby adds.<br/><br/>“Accuracy,” Huey mutters.<br/><br/>“I’m likin’ that glitter idea!” Mabel finger guns, grinning. “Lemme go get Grunkle Stan, hold on a second.” And she heads out through a door labelled employees only.<br/><br/>Dipper doesn’t leave with her, probably because he wants to keep an eye on them. So now they’re left with the paranoid guy. Great.<br/><br/>“The coast, huh?” Dipper asks. It feels weirdly accusatory.<br/><br/>Louie examines his nails in a bored manner. “Yeah. Y’know, sandy beaches, seagulls… so are all— is everyone in the town this dumb? How’s this attraction even still standing?” he asks. Huey gives him a look for being rude. If Dipper’s going to be suspicious of everything about him, he’s not going to be polite.<br/><br/>Dipper crosses his arms, frowning. His suspicion ebbs a little. “It is pretty weird. I think at this point everyone just knows it’s fake, but it’s fun for some reason to them.”<br/><br/>“How is it <em> fun? </em> You’re just looking at <em> lies, </em> ” Huey hisses incredulously.<br/><br/>“I know, right? Actually, I tried bringing in a re—” Dipper pauses awkwardly, catching himself on <em> something. </em> Louie mentally notes it. “...I tried bringing in a more <em> realistic </em> attraction, but no one was impressed.”<br/><br/>“Ouch,” Dewey says sympathetically. “People just don’t appreciate creative minds.” They shake their head.<br/><br/>“Alright, where are the little punks?” a gruff voice suddenly cuts into the air. An old-looking man— the twins grunkle— is led into the room by Mabel, scratching his back as he looks around, and his eyes lock onto the five of them.<br/><br/>“That’s Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Webby.” Mabel points to each of them. Louie’s a little surprised she didn’t mix them up, but they <em> are </em> color-coded for crying out loud, so he doesn’t feel like it should be as hard as some people make it out to be.<br/><br/>“Hmmm,” Stan kneels down, eyeing the four of them. “Got funny little names and everything, huh? So what’s the situation, can’t find your parents?”<br/><br/>Louie puts on his best devastated face. “No… we looked <em> everywhere. </em> We tried calling them, but they usually don’t pick up, so there hasn’t been any response…” He rubs his shoulder, curling in on himself.<br/><br/>The rest of his siblings play into the act too, though Webby was already looking upset. Probably from the fact there's so many strangers. <br/><br/>Stan’s expression softens. “Alright, kids, I can go try and find 'em for you, alright? If they don’t show up by tonight, we’ll figure out someplace for you to stay. You got any descriptors?”<br/><br/>Louie’s thoughts freeze. He didn’t think of that. No—no, it’s fine, Mom and Uncle Donald would just look like him, right? Or he would look like them. It doesn’t matter. He just needs to say that, even though he didn’t really plan for it, so suddenly his mouth isn’t <em> moving— </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> “Our mom looks pretty much like us,” Dewey interjects. “We’re almost like copies of her. Same skin, hair, eyes… she, um, has a twin, that’s our Uncle Donald, so they look the same too.”<br/><br/>“Seems like we got a whole bunch of twins around here. I have one myself, y’know, though he’s a whole lot less fun than me,” Stan chuckles. He straightens, placing his hands on his hips. “Alright. You guys can wait in the house with Dipper and Mabel, and I’ll handle the situation. I’d say this’ll all be cleared up in a few hours or less.”<br/><br/>Considering the fact Mom and Uncle Donald aren’t even in this dimension, he thinks it’ll take longer than that.<br/><br/>“I can give you guys the grand tour!” Mabel yells, throwing out her arms.<br/><br/>Right on time, someone’s stomach growls.<br/><br/>“...We haven’t eaten in a few hours,” Huey mumbles. <br/><br/>“Let me show you the kitchen first,” Mabel smiles, opening the door she went through earlier and gesturing for them to come in.<br/><br/>The five of them— and Dipper— walk in, entering a living room. The flooring's plush carpet is <em> more </em> than welcome. A single, yellow chair rests against the wall, a TV a few feet away from it. Nice. The most notable thing aside from that is a large skull placed next to the chair, though it’s probably fake like everything else is.<br/><br/>“What shows do you guys watch?” Louie asks, staring at the TV as they pass by it, entering a hall.<br/><br/>“Not usually anything specific!” Mabel answers, leading them into a kitchen. “We just let it go wherever it wants to… one show we liked a lot though last summer was <em> Duck-tective. </em> The ending of season two felt pretty anticlimactic, but we haven’t seen season three yet, so it might have gotten better.”<br/><br/>Louie forces himself to not physically react to what she just said. It seems his siblings are struggling as well. “That’s… nice,” he settles on. His mouth feels dry.<br/><br/>Mabel comes to a halt in the kitchen, spinning and splaying out her arms. “Behold! The <em> kitchen </em> . Many amazing creations have been made here.”<br/><br/>In the middle of the room is a birch table, four chairs surrounding it. The room looks pretty old-fashioned, grey floorboards and wallpaper patterned with pine trees. There’s a saw attached to the wall, Louie notices. Why is there a <em> saw? </em> In a <em> kitchen? </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> “We don’t have anything fancy, but there’s still good food,” Mabel says, opening the fridge and rummaging through it. “Like… hm. I don’t know what you like. We have cereal?”<br/><br/>“Cereal’s good,” Huey answers.<br/><br/>“Sweet!” She takes out a jug of milk, then hurries over to a cupboard, pulling out a few boxes of cereal. Just like Pit Cola, they’re all brands he doesn’t recognize.<br/><br/>In the end the four of them decided to try out a brand called Overly Sensitive Owl. All the cereal pieces are shaped like owls.<br/><br/>“Good choice,” Mabel says, already sitting down with her own bowl of it. Dipper seemed to have suddenly appeared a minute ago, seated by her. “Wait. There’s only four chairs… and there’s six of us…”<br/><br/>Hm.<br/><br/>Webby’s lingering near the doorway, cupping her bowl of cereal in an unsure manner. Louie shares a look with Huey and Dewey, and it’s silently decided. Dewey moves out of the kitchen, taking Webby with him. They’re the most empathetic out of the three of them, it’s best they comfort Webby.<br/><br/>“Social anxiety,” Huey explains at Dipper and Mabel’s confused looks. “She needs some time for herself right now.”<br/><br/>Dipper’s expression morphs into understanding. “I get that, anxiety can really suck.”<br/><br/>Louie and Huey take the remaining seats. Honestly, despite how hungry Louie is, eating feels like a chore with how <em> exhausted </em> he is<em>. </em> But, he definitely wouldn’t be able to finally pass out if he didn’t do it.<br/><br/>Mabel rests her elbows on the table, propping up her head. “So what are you guys doin’ in Gravity Falls? Out for some adventure?”<br/><br/>“Something like that,” Louie responds, spinning his spoon in a slow circle. “We were just gonna stop here for a night, see the sights, we’re… visiting relatives a bit away from here.”<br/><br/>“Ooo. How are you liking it? I think it’s a pretty cool place, we had a super fun time last summer!”<br/><br/>Dipper gives her an indiscernible look at that.<br/><br/>Louie shrugs. “Eh. Considering our experience so far has been walking through the woods, barefoot and lost, I’m not liking it a whole lot.”<br/><br/>“Not to mention the statue,” Huey mumbles.<br/><br/>Dipper perks up. “Statue?”<br/><br/>Louie waves a hand. “Doesn’t matter. Was just some creepy statue in the woods. So what do you guys do for fun?” he dismisses the previous subject, quickly changing it to something he feels he can manage.<br/><br/>“Oh! Oh, oh!” Mabel waves her hand around like she’s waiting to be called on by a teacher. “Well, for starters, I like knitting a whole lot. I made the sweater I’m wearing! I’d call myself an <em> entrepreneur </em> in art. Sewing, bejeweling, <em> scrapbooking,</em>” she lists out, voice filled with pride.<br/><br/>“Webby’s into a lotta that stuff, she likes taking up a new hobby whenever she’s bored. A lot of it’s kind of nerd stuff, though. But like, <em> cool </em> nerdy things.” Louie pointedly looks at Huey.<br/><br/>Huey glares back. “<em>How </em> many times have I saved you with my so-called <em> boring </em> nerd things?”<br/><br/>“I dunno, haven’t been keeping track, which means it could be zero.”<br/><br/>“That’s—” Huey sputters. “That’s not how it works!”<br/><br/>“Sorry, Huey,” Louie says completely unapologetically. “If something isn’t being kept track of, it didn’t happen. Or if there’s no pictures.”<br/><br/>Huey’s eye twitches. She grabs her guidebook out of her hat, flipping to a page without even looking and shoving it at him. “A comprehensive list of every time I’ve saved you, Dewey, or Webby from your recklessness.”<br/><br/>“...Wow, you are petty.”<br/><br/>“<em>You’re </em> the one who keeps blackmail on all of us.”<br/><br/>“Touché.”<br/><br/>Dipper and Mabel are staring at the two of them with slight confusion and intrigue at watching their pointless banter.<br/><br/>“What’s that journal you have?” Dipper asks Huey.<br/><br/>Huey’s eyes light up. “It’s my Junior Woodchuck Guidebook! I keep my—my… um. <em> Research </em> in it,” she stumbles. Thankfully, the twins don’t seem to know how to weed out a liar.<br/><br/>“I have a journal like that too!” Dipper exclaims. “Um. Where I also put my <em> research </em> in.”<br/><br/>He’s hiding something. Louie vows to find out where his room is and snoop around the moment he can. Is that disrespecting Dipper’s privacy? Yes. Does he care? No.<br/><br/>Louie realizes he’s done eating. He also realizes it’s become dark outside. He’s not sure what Stan’s been doing all this time, but whatever it is has definitely led to a bunch of dead ends. He almost feels sorry, but he doesn’t really know the guy enough.<br/><br/>“You’re both nerds. Congratulations,” Louie deadpans, standing up and dumping his bowl into the sink. “I’m gonna pass out in the living room now. Thanks for letting us stay.”<br/><br/>“Oh! Goodnight!” Mabel waves a hand. “We should go to bed now, too. It’s been fun! I can show you around the house tomorrow morning. Do you need the bathroom?”<br/><br/>Huey puts away her own bowl. “Better safe than sorry.”<br/><br/>“It’s in the hall just next to the stairs, right across from here. There’s just one door, that’s the bathroom.” Mabel says.<br/><br/>“Thanks,” Huey smiles, walking to the exit. ”Goodnight to you too.”<br/><br/>Dipper eyes the two of them, likely running mental calculations on if he trusts these strangers to sleep in his house. “...Goodnight,” he settles on. “See you guys tomorrow.”<br/><br/>Louie gives a thumbs up, and he and Huey head out, walking back into the living room.<br/><br/>It’s always felt weird going to sleep in a house that isn’t his. He remembers when they first moved to the manor, how he couldn’t sleep at all until eventually he dragged Dewey to Huey’s room, the three of them piling into her bed. Scrooge gave them bunk beds the next day. It doesn’t help that this isn’t just a different house, it’s a different <em> dimension. </em> It’s still hard to wrap his head around the fact, and getting used to his new body is… weird.<br/><br/>He just hopes they can find a way home soon.<br/><br/>The sound of the TV fills his ears as he meets the carpet. The volumes low, perfect for white noise. Dewey and Webby are illuminated by its light, seated on the floor, backs resting against the foot of the couch. They’re leaned against each other, chests rising in deep enough breaths for them to be asleep.<br/><br/>Huey takes their empty bowls, heading back into the kitchen for just a second before she comes back out. She sighs. Louie shares the sentiment.<br/><br/>They both stumble tiredly to their siblings, joining the cuddle pile. Dewey mumbles a little, and Webby peeks open her eyes, observing the two of them blearily before going back to sleep. Louie tucks himself under Dewey’s arm, curling his arms around them, and they pet his hair absently.<br/><br/>He’s out before he knows it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was a really impromptu fic, i chucked it out in two days fueled by spite and sibling bonding alone. im not sure if ill continue this or not. knowing me i probably will, but im not giving it multiple chapters until im sure. also, i wanna note deweys pronouns are they/he and huey is a transgirl, so she/her</p></blockquote></div></div>
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